Lissie Nye
by Honey Jenkins
Summary: "But he beats her! And starves her!" Jiggy Nye is notorious for his cruelty, and when young Benjamin Davidson makes a delivery and discovers a sad little girl named Felicity living under harsh conditions on the man's property, he knows he must do all he can to help her.
1. Chapter I

**Author's Note: **Good morrow, friends! It certainly didn't take long for me to return to the land of Ben and Felicity. They're just so perfectly adorable together that I can't help myself. This one has a much more sombre tone than _Death of a Merriman, _as barely a chapter gets written without both my Beta and me being reduced to tears. I hope that you enjoy the new story, despite the gloomy circumstances our poor little Lissie is subjected to.

Updates will be every **Friday**! I will also be updating a new_ H2O_ story called _Dark Side of the Moon_ on **Mondays**.

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**Chapter I**

"Out of the way, boy!"

Ben shifted the flour sack in his hands and wove around the horse and cart, nodding his head in silent apology. The flour wasn't heavy—well, not too heavy—but he was not sure he was going in the right direction which is why he kept stopping, and consequently, getting in everyone's way.

He had only moved to Williamsburg two days ago to work as an apprentice for Mr. Merriman, a prominent shopkeeper of that town. He was supposed to be delivering a sack of flour to a Mrs. Wright, but he could not remember the way to her house.

Mr. Merriman had sent him off early. He said it would take some time before Ben was familiar with the streets, and he need not hurry back. This was fortunate for Ben, for it was nearing lunchtime before he'd completed his delivery, and he wanted to see the sights of the town before returning.

He took a different way back to the shop, intending on learning every route possible; the quickest, and the best. A few minutes walking took him past the tannery. The stench of the tanning vats was nearly intolerable, but Ben braved it for the sake of his explorations.

The tannery shed was a grey, tumble-down building with smashed window panes that gave it the appearance of a grimacing face. The tools of the tanner's trade lay scattered around the deck, along with lumber, leathers, and shingles that had fallen from the roof. A bit beyond that was a small pasture. The fence was in disrepair but stable enough to keep tired old horses within.

Ben saw no horses today. In the middle of the yard stood a wooden post, beneath which a little girl sat playing with a length of rope. Her green eyes watched him walk by without blinking. A bushel of red hair lay matted around her face, unruly and uncovered. She sat in the dirt and there were no shoes or stockings on her feet.

"Hello," Ben smiled. Her eyes narrowed and she drew away, scooting partially behind the post. She could almost hide behind it, she was so desperately thin.

Ben had yet to make any friends in Williamsburg. His mother had urged him to be friendly and not to let his shyness get the best of him with almost as much urgency as his father told him to learn a good trade. There were not many boys his age around Mr. Merriman's shop, and those that were behaved badly, throwing stones at birds and squirrels. Perhaps if he could make one friend today, making more would come easier.

He came to the post and knelt beside the little girl. "I'm Benjamin Davidson, from Yorktown."

"Felicity," she whispered so quietly, he barely heard.

"Felicity, you say?" She nodded, but looked so sad Ben wanted to do something to cheer her up. He noticed that she didn't have a doll. Most girls liked to play with dolls, but she only had a rope to play with. Maybe that's why she was sad.

"Do you want to come and play with me?" he asked.

She nodded, brows furrowed as if uncertain.

"Well, come on then."

She shook her head and shrank away. It was then he realised that she was not playing with the rope, but that it kept her tethered to the post by her wrist. Ben was flustered. He thought it must have been some of the mean boys in town who tied her up for their cruel idea of sport. Ben fished the knife out of his pocket that he kept on hand for whittling. Felicity flinched when he brought it closer, but blinked in surprised gratitude when he used it to cut the rope.

"There, now. That's better."

She did not remove the rope around her wrist, but rubbed her arm since it was probably sore from being strung up for a while.

It took a great deal of coaxing, but finally Felicity followed Ben outside of the dusty circle she'd been sitting in. Try as he might, he could not get her to leave the yard. Clearly, she was still afraid of being caught by those boys. He settled for sitting in a soft patch of grass and showing her the piece of wood from home he was planning on whittling into something. What, he was not quite sure of yet.

While he chattered on about his move to Williamsburg, the sailor friend his piece of wood had come from, and all about his new work at Mr. Merriman's store, Felicity sat silently and listened. Sometimes he would catch her smiling a small, sad smile.

"Do you like bears?" he asked suddenly.

She made no reply.

"Ducks? Do you like ducks?"

Still, she only stared, frowning.

"What about horses?"

To this, her face brightened a moment before she became downcast again and remarked bitterly, "I love horses, but Mr. Nye kills them. He makes me watch, and I tried to make friends with one of the horses, but he killed her, too."

"Who is Mr. Nye?"

She didn't want to continue, so Ben turned to his piece of wood. "Then I shall carve you a horse. This one will be your friend for always."

Ben chuckled at her wary expression. "You don't believe me, do you? Just watch. I'm very good at it," he said, beginning the process under her watchful eyes, "Far better than Jacob, or Samuel."

A vicious shout rang out from the shadows of the shed, making a queer sense of dread fall over Ben.

"Where are ye, little brat!?"

Felicity scrambled to her feet and shooed him with her hands. "Go! You have to go!"

Not understanding, Ben slowly rose to his feet and watched her flee in the direction of her post. An older, angry man grabbed her roughly by the arm and shook her. "Where have ye been, useless wretch?! I told ye not to leave this post! For runnin' there'll be no supper!"

"I'm sorry," she gasped feebly. "I was playing…"

The man slapped her cheek and shouted. "Cry as ye are, and tomorrow's supper will be thrown out, as well!"

"It was my fault, sir!" Ben called, rushing up in the hopes of somehow stopping the wicked man from hurting her.

His devilish sneer turned to Ben. "Who might ye be!?"

"Benjamin Davidson, sir. Please don't strike her. I cut the rope so she could walk in the yard. She wasn't running away. You shouldn't tie her up like that," he raised his voice, becoming angrier by the moment, "It hurts her wrist and she can't play."

"Can't play? Mind yer own business, boy! I'll do as I please with my own property! What's more, if I catch ye sneaking 'round here again, it'll be the worse for both of you."

"Don't shout at him!" Felicity cried. "He's my friend!"

For this, she was given a box to the head."Don't talk back to me, chit! I'll beat ye until some manners are learned!" He marched off, dragging her with him and muttering curses under his breath at a woman who'd left him such a burden.

Ben stood dumbstruck, his knife clenched tightly in hand. He'd wanted to help Felicity and cheer her up with a present, but instead he'd made a terrible mistake. He wished he was big enough to fight the man that hurt her. Then he would punch him before he could strike Felicity and help her run away to Yorktown. She would be safe there. His father was a strict man, but he never struck his daughters.

He turned away at last and sighed. He knew now which route he would take to and from his deliveries He had to pass by the tannery as often as he could. He had to do something to protect his new friend.

"Don't worry, Felicity," he said aloud, "I'll come back for you. No matter what, I'll come back."


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

The next few days, Felicity was not out in the pasture. Ben passed the tannery several times a day, but there was no sign of the girl. During that time, he paid special attention to anyone who mentioned the tanner and its inhabitants, but he discovered little.

Not much was known of the owner. His name was Jiggy Nye, and nothing Ben heard of him was good. He'd been married once, but since losing his wife had become a drunkard and a gambler. Because of this, his money went to drink rather than his trade, and business was poor. No one brought him deliveries because no one trusted him to pay for what he asked for.

Ben heard nothing of Felicity. He wondered if people even knew she was there.

His answer came one night at dinner with Mr. Merriman. He asked how Ben was getting along, and if the streets were easier to navigate than before. Ben assured him that he was learning fast, and his route often took him by the tannery. He was curious as to the man named Jiggy Nye, and what his story was.

Mr. Merriman frowned. "Ah, that's a sad tale, indeed. Mr. Nye was once revered for his knowledge of horses, but since his wife passed, he's become a changed man. It must be a hard life, suddenly being left all alone."

"He has a little girl," Ben remarked quietly.

"That can't be. His wife and two daughters died of the fever. It's just Mr. Nye in that tannery."

"I saw her. Her name is Felicity and he keeps her tied to a post in the pasture."

"Perhaps you were mistaken. It must have been one of the neighbour's daughters playing a game." Mr. Merriman changed topics suddenly. "Did you copy the storehouse inventory like I asked?"

"Yes , sir. But, sir, I did see her!"

"That's enough, Ben. Those are serious accusations to be putting against any man. I know you find his trade offensive, but that is no reason to tell tales. I thought better of you."

Ben lowered his eyes and said nothing more, but his head was spinning. It became even more urgent that he see Felicity again. He knew what he had seen, and he knew she was not playing any foolish games.

This time, she was there; small, downcast, and dirty as he remembered. He'd also remembered that Jiggy Nye refused her food, so he had started to carry his lunch in his pocket on the chance that he would find her. Today there was an apple and a few pieces of bread.

Ben anxiously crept around the side rather than going by way of the pasture gate. He stayed concealed behind a coppice of oak until he determined that there were no signs of Jiggy Nye at the house.

"Felicity!" he whispered as loud as he dared.

Her head shot up, and her wide eyes searched frantically until they rested on Ben. "You came back!"

"Is it all right for me to come closer? Will he see me?"

Her gaze drifted back to the house. "He doesn't see well."

Ben planted himself beside her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to get you in trouble last time."

"Mr. Nye doesn't like strangers," she frowned.

"I'll be careful this time and run away before he sees. Why do you call him Mr. Nye?" Ben asked. "Isn't he your father?"

"After Mama died, he hit me when I called him Papa. He said he's Mr. Nye to me."

Ben nodded, though he could not fathom why a man would be angry to be called Papa. "May I untie you?"

She shook her head with vehemence. Ben tried to explain that he would replace the rope before he left, but she was terrorised from prior consequences. As she devoured the bread and apple Ben provided, he tried not to stare too hard at the bruises that covered her arms and legs.

"Do those hurt?" he asked.

She nodded. Using the back of her hand to wipe apple juices from her mouth resulted in dirt streaks across her face. "I'm thirsty," she put almost like a question.

"Oh! I forgot!" Ben scurried away without warning. He went back to Mr. Merriman's for something to hold water in. It took him some time to find a tin cup from the storehouse and fill it from the river, even though he ran the whole way.

When he returned, Felicity was sniffling, and making more of a mess by wiping falling tears with her dirty hands.

Ben took care not to spill a single drop of water as he knelt beside her, setting the cup out of the way. She flinched when his hand touched her shoulder, and he quickly drew it back. "Felicity, what's wrong?"

"I… I thought you weren't coming back," she whimpered.

"I will _always_ come back!" He took her hand in his own and she did not flinch this time. He began to clean it with the end of his shirt. Soon he had her face and arms clean, and he was rewarded with her amused giggle as her cheeks appeared from beneath the dirt.

Later, Ben was scolded for being careless with his clothes, and arriving at Mr. Merriman's with a soiled shirt, but he didn't mind. He'd made Felicity smile and that was enough.

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**Author's Note:** Isn't little Ben the sweetest? I rather love him. And poor little Lissie too, of course. Mr. Merriman is being a total Alice's-Not-in-Wonderland-Dad right now. Poor Ben! I believe you!


	3. Chapter III

**III**

Ben was planning. He put a little of his money aside every day. He heard that Jiggy Nye was a greedy man and thought perhaps if he could give him money, he might let Felicity go. He looked at his small pile of coins, sighed sadly, and put it back into the wooden box of his very few possessions. He would never make enough to buy her freedom.

Felicity spoke much more now, and it always cheered him to listen to her voice. She noticed things that others never saw. She could find tiny beetles and worms for fishing bait when she felt brave enough to leave her post. She knew when Ben was sad, or angry, though he tried so hard to only show her happiness.

Though listening to Felicity was the best part of his day, it also made him sad. She had so little, and Jiggy Nye hurt her for the most simple of things.

"I kept looking for you," he said, one fine afternoon. "You haven't been outside in so many days."

"I had to spill something."

Ben was used to her simple, yet mysterious statements. "What do you mean?"

"If I'm too noisy and make mistakes he ties me up here so I'm not in the house. I dropped some things on purpose so he'd let me outside." Her timid green eyes sought his approval.

He didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject. "I'm learning to count the things in the storehouse. Soon I can lift big barrels like Marcus, but for now, my arms are too skinny." Felicity reached out to squeeze his arm, testing it. He laughed, as it tickled, and continued on. "I delivered some cornmeal since Marcus was busy, and Mr. Merriman gave me a ginger cookie!"

She gave him that curious tilt of the head which indicated she didn't understand.

"A cookie!" he cried. "Have you never had a cookie?"

He was sad for her. How could a person go on living without knowing the delights of a ginger cookie? "It's like a sweeter biscuit, but sharp, and tastes like..." Though he had her enraptured by the crude description, he could tell she was no closer to understanding. "I'll bring you one next time!" he promised.

But the next time, Ben brought several. Her eyes widened at the sight, and again when she tasted their sharp sweetness.

"My mother used to bake cookies like this for my birthday. Where is your mother?"

"In heaven, with baby sister. They left me because I'm a naughty girl." Ben paused his whittling to watch fresh tears form in her eyes.

"Why would you say that?"

"Mr. Nye says Mama was tired of my… my… use'tisness, and she went to heaven and took baby Nan with her, since I didn't deserve to go with them."

Ben flinched as the knife pierced his hand, but he ignored it. "Felicity, that is _not true._" She was startled by the harshness of his tone. "It is Mr. Nye who is evil, and you are good, and kind, and… and pretty!" He couldn't say what made him add the last part, but incensed as he was, all he could hope to do was persuade Felicity that Jiggy Nye was a liar. "Mr. Merriman told me your mother and sister died of a fever. That is _not _your fault, do you hear me?"

Felicity's lip trembled and she looked up to Ben with fearful eyes. "I'm sorry! I won't say so anymore!"

"Lissie," he soothed, setting down his craft and brushing away tears with his handkerchief. "I'm not angry with _you_. But you must know that it wasn't your fault."

"Truly?" she pleaded.

"Yes."

"Then why didn't I go to heaven, too?"

"Because…" the words Ben found felt silly and unimportant in the face of such a pitiful child and the weight of her tragedy, but he could think of nothing else to say, and the words were honest.

"I need you."

"You do?" Her face brightened as she was overcome with a new purpose.

"Aye. If you'd gone to heaven, I wouldn't have a friend here."

Felicity sat stunned. Her gaze flickered back and forth from Ben to the ground as she thought. "Then I'm glad I didn't go to heaven, yet."

Ben exhaled in relief. He absentmindedly reached for his tools again.

Felicity gasped suddenly. "Oh! You're bleeding!"

Ben reassessed his hand. There was a gash in the palm from his carelessness, agitated as he was by her distress. Felicity was quite concerned. "Give me part of your shirt," she said. "Like when you cleaned my hands…"

He was not acting quickly enough for her, so she took the hem of his shirt and tugged. Finally understanding, Ben cut a strip of cloth so she could bandage his wound.

All traces of sadness were gone as she concentrated on tending to him. Her head bent over the delicate work, and she paused only to brush the hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. She finished the binding with a small knot, once again waiting for his smile of approval.

Ben was taken off guard when she shyly kissed the palm of his hand and hurried away to her lonely abode.

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**Author's Note:** From now on, I'll be giving snippets of the next chapter to anyone who reviews! :) It is not a bribe. It is a gift. Of good will and... okay, I'm a terrible liar. It's a bribe. But remember, if you leave an anonymous review, I won't be able to send you a teaser!


	4. Chapter IV

**IV**

The mild spring weather soon turned biting, and fall turned brusquely to winter. As the weather grew colder, Felicity grew taller, and subsequently out of her clothes. She fashioned shoes from scraps of leather, and sewed old horse blankets into cloaks, but the hems of her skirts were nearing indecent, and her sleeves were tight, even on her slender arms. Despite her inadequate garments, there was no frost or chill that would keep her from meeting Ben.

They still met at the post, moving onward from there, although Jiggy Nye no longer bound her to it with rope. He made it clear that should she run away, he would come after her, and a late return always resulted in fierce punishments. Ben couldn't bear the thought that his prolonged enjoyment of her presence would mean more beatings, and it was often his urging that sent her back to the tannery before the allotted time.

Ben always brought food, and an extra cloak for colder days, for nothing he did could persuade Felicity to leave his side sooner than necessary, and her horse blanket was insufficient in keeping her warm.

Today, she trotted out, stumbling somewhat as she tried to avoid newly formed snow drifts and icy puddles. Ben hurried to help her, lifting her up by the elbows until she felt far enough from the tannery, sheltered behind trees that had not been taken by the frost yet while the rush of the creek made a comforting backdrop. She seemed to Ben more aloof than usual; she kept her eyes averted and her hands tucked inside her rough cloak. At first, Ben thought her nervous to be out, and he asked if he should go. She shook her head, a decided, vehement _no_.

"I have something for you." He reached within his cloak and pulled out a square shaped parcel, bound with string. "It's wool, for… for a warmer dress. I wrote to my sisters and asked how much it would take. I bought extra, in case you wanted to make mittens."

Felicity's eyes brimmed with tears as they so often did when offered kindness. He held it out to her and she cringed inside the cover of her cloak.

Ben mistook her reaction for fear of discovery, and said, "Mr. Merriman thinks it's for my sister. No one suspects you."

She shook her head, sniffles turning to sobs. Still, her hands did not move from under the cloak, except to pull it tighter around her.

"Are you afraid he'll be angry? Will he really mind if it's a gift?"

She drew her knees up and bowed her head, unable to be consoled.

"Felicity…" Ben felt so helpless in that everything he did for her seemed to go awry.

"It hurts…" she cried, "It hurts so much, and I can't sew mittens for them!"

"What hurts, Lissie? What is it?"

Keeping her head down, she pushed her little hands out of the cloak to show the damage done. Ben let out a cry. Her hands had been burned—ravaged, more like, with some kind of unnatural chemical. Her hands were cracked and red in places, blistered in others. Pieces of her skin looked like wax dripping from a candle.

"What…" he laboured to keep his voice calm, "What happened?"

"He made me clean the leathers with something that smelled bad. I spilled it on my hands and it burned. He yelled and said I was a stupid child, then sent me away. I didn't know, Ben! I didn't know it would burn!"

"Of course not!" he said, wanting to take her hands and restore and kiss them like she had for him only months prior, but it looked as if any contact would only increase her pain. Instead, he picked her up, set her in his lap, and let her cry into his shirt as her damaged hands curled sadly at her sides. Stroking her hair, he said, "I'll find someone else to make the dress and mittens. Miss Manderly makes clothes. I'll ask her on my next delivery."

Ben went home that day, determined to give Lissie a better life.

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**Author's Apologies:**

I'm so sorry! I can't believe I did this, but I got my update days mixed up and posted my _H2O_ story last night (a little early) instead of this! I'm such an addlepated nit! It's still Friday for my time zone, but later than a respectable posting hour. My deepest apologies! I'll try my best not to repeat the mistake!


	5. Chapter V

**V**

More terrified than he'd ever been in his life, Ben stood before the shabby door and raised his fist. Lissie was thankfully absent. He hoped she'd stay well away from the front of the house until things were settled. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to knock.

There was no answer, so he knocked again; louder now.

The door whinged open to allow Jiggy Nye a peek.

"Sir…"

"Well? Speak up, I can't hear ye!" he rasped.

"Sir! I've come to… That is... Will you let Felicity go?"

"What!?" the way he squinted, Ben couldn't tell if he was half-blind, or perpetually angry.

"I have a little money… will you let her go for this?" He timidly held out all his hard earned savings.

Jiggy Nye laughed a short, humourless laugh. "Get out. I knew ye'd be trouble. She's mine, and ye can't have her!"

"But sir..." his voice wavered as he tried to choke back tears. "I don't mean to _keep_ her, like you do. It isn't right, making her starve and striking her when you're angry. If... if you need some work done, I'll do it for you. Please let her go."

"You mean to preach me right and wrong?" he sneered. "Who do ye think ye are, boy? Get off my land, or I'll beat you, and her right after!"

Ben trembled in his boots, but he didn't move. That couldn't be the end of it. He had worked so hard. He had mustered up the courage to come. He couldn't...

"Well!" Jiggy snarled, "Get!" And he slammed the door on Ben.

-x-

Ben pushed his peas to one side of his plate and stabbed an attempted roll-away with a despondent scowl.

"Do you not like peas, Ben?"

He snapped to attention, remembering where he was, and simultaneously, his table manners as well.

"I'm sorry, sir," he answered Mr. Merriman.

"You seem to have some weighty matter pressing upon your mind. What is it, lad? You can tell me."

Ben didn't want to answer. Not when he was so wretchedly ashamed of his failure.

Fortunately, he was spared the trial by a commotion at the door. The housemaid was having difficulty sending someone away during supper.

Jiggy Nye made it past her by rough force, and stomped his way into the dining room. Ben jumped up in fright.

"Tell yer boy to stay away from my house!" he shouted with a crooked finger curved in Ben's direction. "He has no business there, insulting me with his penny pieces."

Mr. Merriman remained in his seat, but looked to his apprentice. "Ben?"

He spoke to Jiggy Nye, rather than answering Mr. Merriman. His fists were clenched tight, and he realised he'd picked up his knife by instinct. "You're a cruel and wicked man, and don't deserve to care for Lissie!"

"Lissie, eh? So you have pet names between ye, now? I'm warning ye, Merriman, you keep that boy away from my daughter! I'll not give up what's mine by right! I'll be hanged if I do!"

Feeling he'd said enough, Jiggy Nye went out with as much shouting and cursing as he'd come in. Not knowing how else to behave, Ben sat back down and stared forlorn into his plate.

After Jiggy Nye had gone, there was a long stretch of uncomfortable silence before Mr. Merriman broke it by saying, "I thought you were telling tales from boredom or loneliness. I ask your forgiveness."

Ben looked up hopefully. "Will you help us?"

"There's nothing to be done. I'm afraid she belongs to him by law. He's her father."

"But he beats her! And starves her!"

"I'm sorry, Ben."

"What if she was your daughter?" Ben strove to hide the fact that tears were teasing their way out of his eyes. It was not manly to cry, and he would have to walk away from the table soon before Mr. Merriman noticed.

"The fact is she is not. She is Jiggy Nye's daughter, and that is why nothing can be done."

"I don't believe you. Something _can_ be done. And I'll find out what it is." His lip trembled from fighting back the angry tears.

"Ben, don't cause trouble with our neighbours. If you incite Mr. Nye's anger, he'll retaliate not only to you, but to the girl."

"Felicity. Her _name_ is Felicity."

"Ben…"

He glowered at the table. "May I be excused?"

Mr. Merriman sighed. "Yes."

He turned on his heel, but paused a moment and looked over his shoulder. "You don't think he'll hurt her because of me... do you?"

"I don't know, Ben. I do wish you wouldn't meddle."

And meddle he would not. At least, not so far as Jiggy Nye would have knowledge of. He would not give up his only friend. He would not leave poor Lissie alone.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

You may or may not have noticed, but I recently changed the rating for this story from** T** to **M**. For sensitive readers, you need not be alarmed for things of a lemony nature, but for violence and language at a later time, I would rather be safe than sorry. I made a sticky note for myself so I wouldn't forget to announce this change in rating, and it says...

_Apologise to the children. Because now they can't read it._

So, I'm sorry, children! Wait until you're older. Or do what I always did, and read it at your best friend's house so your siblings don't rat you out. Imeanwhat?


	6. Chapter VI

**VI**

Felicity cringed before the onslaught of another blow. Jiggy Nye was in a particularly foul mood, and nothing she could do appeased him—if anything, her failed attempts just made it worse.

So she held her breath and closed her eyes and tried not to make too much noise when he surprised her with another hard fist to the mouth that left her crumpled on the floor.

"Did I tell ye to talk back?!" he raged. And muttering, "That'll teach ye..." he finally disappeared to his room.

Felicity waited until the tell-tale shuffle of his heavy boots had stopped and were replaced by the sounds of his settling in bed. He would likely sleep until supper. Felicity pulled herself to her feet with the help of a distressed table leg. She took only the fraction of a moment to touch her bleeding and swollen lip and busied herself with the sparse fixings of what Jiggy Nye expected to have ready for his supper.

Her stomach betrayed her by its noisy growls against emptiness, even though she knew the meat she prepared was more than likely the organ of one of her horse friends. The tough bread she placed on his plate to catch the meat drippings looked delicious as well.

Tears filled her eyes as she thought of how Ben would be sad to see her hungry; longing for old bread and horse liver instead of enjoying ginger cookies. He was so kind to her. The best and only friend she had. Felicity thought she might make another friend today, but all she had to show for it was a swollen lip and a throbbing jaw.

There were new folks in town. A pair of sisters, wearing bright coloured dresses with skirts that bunched and rustled, and sleeves that had great puffy clouds of lace peeking out. At first, she had only gawked, but then the younger of the two noticed her and stopped to grant a smile from beneath her fancy hat.

"Come along, Bitsy!" the elder commanded with a sniff, and a toss of her glossy curls. "Don't stop to gawk at the urchin. She looks positively wild! I'd be surprised if she even knew the King's English."

Felicity didn't know the King, or why the English belonged to him, but she understood that the older girl had said something very unkind, and she did not like her. The younger girl trotted fearfully after her sister, but just before they turned the corner, she glanced back and shot Felicity a sad sort of smile.

Ben was not impressed with the new neighbours. He had little to say on the matter when Felicity made mention of them.

"Their gowns look like cake," he stated, "and Annabelle keeps her nose so high, birds could mistake it for a tree branch."

Felicity giggled at that. "Their shoes were pretty," she added softly. "So shiny, and new."

"Their shoes?" Ben looked quizzically at her feet bound in cloth and leathers. She had stuffed the makeshift shoes with scraps of cotton in an attempt to shut out the cold. "You don't have shoes," he noted.

She dismissed this fact with a slight shrug, and he said no more about it.

"But Lissie..." he asked, touching her bruised cheek _ever_ so lightly. "Was it my fault he did this? Did I make him angry?"

She shook her head. "I promise. It wasn't your fault."

Ben sighed and looked away, focusing on some point in the distance. Lissie slipped her hand into his, and they simply stayed; listening to the birds chatter and thinking of nothing.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

*sniffles* I want a Ben to sit with while I'm thinking of nothing! :(( :(( :(( :((

I think I need to set an alarm for myself with big flashing letters that say, "FRIDAY IS FOR LISSIE NYE!" because I almost uploaded the wrong story again! What is wrong with me?


	7. Chapter VII

**VII**

"Are you certain?" Mr. Merriman looked dubiously at the requested articles. He did not carry them in his own store, and it had raised a few eyebrows for a widower with no daughters to search out the lady who could make such feminine accessories.

"Oh, yes, sir."

"And what would you need with these, my lad?"

Ben hesitated. He did not think of how he would explain such a purchase. "Oh, it's not for me, sir. But... you know that I have sisters."

"Aye, I did not think of that. These are very fine, Ben. Whichever sister receives these must feel very blessed indeed to have such a giving brother. You've spent nearly all of what you've made in these past months, including your Christmas tips." He raised his eyes at the extravagance. "Shall I wrap them with a ribbon?"

"Oh, would you?" Ben beamed, "I think she would like that very much."

Ben ducked his head in embarrassment as Mr. Merriman praised his thoughtfulness for his sister's present to a fussy old woman who came in after his parcel was wrapped.

He felt a little guilty for not telling the whole truth, but the gift was not for his sister.

All around Williamsburg, the signs of Christmas were beginning. Rose bustled about, asking Ben to taste this or that pudding, and sample a slice or two of pie for the master. Mr. Merriman did not have fancy balls to attend like many others with wives and children, but he did have business with the men in the town and was invited to sup with their families most winter evenings. He was not home often, and teased Rose that she must have baked such delectable treats solely for Ben's sake.

She huffed and denied the allegations, but not without muttering the importance of the lad enjoying proper Christmas feasts, even if he could not spend the winter season socialising with his family and loved ones.

Mr. Merriman wondered that he did not have more friends in town. There were more than several boys his age that were always together, and though a little shy, Ben was of a kind and friendly nature and it seemed odd that nearly a year had passed without his finding a friend.

Mr. Merriman broached the subject one chilly evening in the storeroom. Ben sat hunched on a barrel, feet swinging against the sides as he hummed to himself and took inventory of the stock. The candle was almost out, but Ben was determined to finish his task before bedtime. The cloak he wore made his shoulders look monstrous, and Mr. Merriman surmised it was given to him by his father.

"Are you not lonely, Ben?"

"Sir?" Ben looked up from the figures.

"Don't you ever play with the other lads about town? I should think you'd have made many friends by this time."

Ben did not believe in making friends with those who were mean to Lissie, but he said nothing aloud in case the matter should cause Mr. Merriman further distress.

"No, sir. I'd rather keep to my work."

Mr. Merriman laughed. "Be sure not to work too hard! I don't wish to keep my apprentice chained to the books. Make time for friendships. 'Tis an important part of life, and you'll not regret it."

"Yes, sir." Ben bent his head and continued his counts.

_-x-_

Winter was making it more difficult for Lissie to find hiding places to meet Ben. In the spring and summer, she didn't have to go much further than the borders of Jiggy Nye's pasture where plenty of trees made shaded groves for them to play in. But once fall arrived, and the leaves dropped one by one from their trees to leave sad and naked branches, Lissie began to venture further and further from the post and the pasture.

There was a spot by the creek where evergreens remained, and it became their new shelter from unkind eyes and curious neighbours.

Lissie came in the simple woollen dress she'd made with the material Ben provided. Jiggy Nye believed she'd found the dress in the chest of old garments, and she was in no hurry to correct him. The mittens Ben had commissioned Miss Manderly to make, she hid beneath a loose floorboard in a dark corner of Jiggy Nye's house when she was not sneaking them outside to wear in the cold. She had a tattered shawl over her head to warm her ears and neck, and for a moment Ben doubted his gift. He should have chosen something more practical, such as a winter bonnet or a larger cloak. But she would have to hide her gifts no matter the use she would receive from them, and the larger the gift the harder it would be to keep Jiggy Nye from noticing.

Along with his parcel, Ben brought hot potatoes he'd roasted under the pig Rose was preparing for supper, with bread, and apples, and a bit of cheese. He wished he could bring Lissie some of the roast pig as well, but Rose would certainly have known if he'd carved some of it off.

He _had_ managed to bring chocolate for her to drink, keeping it warm by filling an empty sugar bowl with a lid. He had so much to carry that he found it necessary to hide a basket under his cloak, which he produced as soon as they were situated.

Lissie was in awe over the chocolate.

"'Tis so pleasant, and warm, and... and rich!" she exclaimed, "And do you always drink from such large cups?"

Ben stifled a chuckle. "No, this is a sugar bowl. I didn't want to bring the whole pot, or I might have been caught." He turned grave and pushed the wrapped parcel towards her. Mr. Merriman had bound it with a green silk ribbon, and it matched the colour of Lissie's shining eyes.

"The money I saved wasn't enough to free you..." he said, regret flooding his tone, "but I wanted to do something..."

Lissie blinked and set the sugar bowl down in the fresh blanket of snow. Ben was thankful that the parcel was wrapped in such a way that enabled her to open it without the removal of her mittens. Her hands shook as she pushed away the paper to reveal a pair of fancy dancing shoes. The colour was yellow like the sunshine, with red, and pink, and purple roses embroidered on the toe and heels.

"I remembered you said their shoes were pretty. I thought... maybe you'd like..." he kept his head down as he stared at them, fiddling with his cloak. "Maybe you can't wear them."

"They are the most beautiful things I have ever had," she breathed, and she was crying softly. He moved closer to wrap her in half of his cloak so that the pot of chocolate was sitting comfortably between them. She burrowed in the warmth of his closeness, taking shelter from the cold, her new shoes peeking cheerfully up at her.

"I think you are like the angels in the Bible," she murmured. "You are so good to me, Benjamin Davidson."

Ben wiped his own tears with the back of his gloved hand and swallowed hard. "And you to me, Lissie Nye."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, I caved. I'll start posting this twice a week from now on. Mondays _and_ Fridays. You're welcome! :)

Also... I love Ben a lot. If I had a Ben, I would want him to buy me the pretty silk velvet ballet moccasin slippers from The Victorian Trading Company. I don't ask much!


	8. Chapter VIII

**VIII**

As seasons passed and turned to years, Ben and Lissie grew somewhat familiar with their double lives. Mr. Merriman took Marcus on to help with the rougher work about town while Ben was given more responsibilities within the store, keeping accounts and the like. He did not let a full day pass without breaking away to look for Lissie. Though she was not always able to get away from Jiggy Nye and his wretched house, Ben went past the tannery and down to the creek every afternoon so that if she happened to be there, he would not miss her.

In the spring and summer it was more difficult to take her food under the guise of having deliveries near the tannery. He disguised Lissie's dinners in various parcels and containers, but was relieved when winter brought back the necessity of cloaks and he was once more able to hide things in a more suitable manner. Even so, he took the utmost caution in putting aside his own food without raising Mr. Merriman's suspicions.

Rose was not so easily fooled.

"Master Ben!" Rose's sharp reprimand almost made him drop the slice of pie he handled. "Didn't you eat just an hour ago?"

"I..." Ben eyed the floor and shuffled his feet. "Yes, I did."

"Then why do you need to sneak a slice of pie? If you're hungry, just say so."

Rose busied herself with a pot of stew, thinking the matter had ended. Ben coughed a little.

"I was thinking I may become hungry later."

She huffed. "Just come to me then and I'll make you something." She looked over her shoulder to see Ben frowning. "How is it that you stow away so much food, and yet never seem to grow any larger? Don't I give you samplings of all my best work?" she complained, "You're tall as a steeple now, but why are you still such a spindly thing?"

Ben shrugged in good humour.

"Don't you worry, Master Ben. You'll grow. I can see already, the work you do for Master Merriman will make you grow into your age."

Ben still refused to quit the kitchen.

"What is it?"

"May I still have the pie?"

Rose stopped in her work to place a hand on her hip in suspicion. "The pie isn't for you, is it?"

"There is someone who needs it more than I."

"I suppose you mean the Morris children. Don't you worry, Master Ben. I know Mistress Fletchly takes good care of them. Their oldest is a girl of fourteen, and she does her best by selling her embroideries. But the Missus Fletchly brings food and clean linens and all manner of good things. I think they'll be all right by and by. And Nathan; he's almost old enough to find some work here about town."

"No, I don't mean the Morris's. I know someone... someone who wouldn't eat at all most days if I didn't bring her supper." He swallowed away the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him up.

Rose saw the change in his expression and turned eager. "Who? Is it someone nearby? They must have come recently, for I don't recall..."

"No, Rose! It's a terrible secret!" Ben warned. "He must never know! Not Mr. Merriman, or anyone in town. You see... she's Mr. Nye's daughter, and he keeps her in the most pitiable conditions. When she strays too far or stays out too long, he beats her. And he feeds her so little—if at all. I'm sorry for taking the food, but I'm afraid she'll starve without it."

"Is that where all the tarts have disappeared to? Well, don't worry no more, and Rose will take care of everything. I'm going to make up a basket right now."

"You won't tell Mr. Merriman?"

"I won't say a word to a single soul! You can count on that. Poor child! What's the dear's name?"

Ben was happy to have someone to talk to regarding his friend. "Felicity. But I call her Lissie."

"Tis a sweet name. Here, bring that basket over and I'll see to it that it's filled with all the good things it'll hold."

Ben was in high spirits as he came to the creek, laden with a feat for his Lissie. Her back was turned, and her posture indiscernible beneath a shapeless cloak. She cringed away at his touch on her shoulder.

"Lissie?"

Felicity faced him with a stony expression, hot tears still welling in her eyes. She let her hood fall back to reveal that her head had been shorn; cropped close to the nape of her neck without any regard for her appearance.

Ben drew in breath and let the basket fall to the ground.

Immediately, she began to sob, her face pressed into her hands. "It was in the way. I... I had it down and it brushed against him... and..."

"Oh, my poor Lissie!" Ben reached for her, but she flung the hood back on with a fierceness that made him recoil.

"Don't look at me!" she cried, "Please don't look at me! Don't look at me like this!" Her forehead fell against his chest, and he put his arms around her.

"I won't if you don't like, but Lissie, I don't mind. Except... you must be so cold." He brought his hands up to warm her neck, hidden under the coarse hood.

She kept her head down as she cried. "But now I am so ugly, and you'll marry Annabelle Cole, and..."

"What on earth? Lissie, don't speak in that way! Why would you say such a thing?"

She looked up at him, tearfully. "Once you said I was pretty, and since you were the one who said it, I believed you. But then Annabelle came, and I wondered..." She hiccoughed, "Yet, you still said I was pretty. But now my hair is gone, and you couldn't possibly..." she covered her mouth with her hands, ready to cry again.

"But you _are _pretty! You are still pretty!" She shook her head against his chest. "What must I do to convince you?" He drew her chin up with a gentle hand and brushed her tears away with his thumb. "Would... would you believe me if I kissed you?"

Lissie sniffled. She bobbed her head, "Yes."

Ben was ever so gentle, as he always was with her. Their noses touched as he brought her face up and pressed his lips to hers. Lissie no longer felt the cold. More than wool mittens, or a full stomach, or even hot chocolate, his kiss warmed and filled her and she wished that it could never end.

And in that moment, Lissie Nye felt more than pretty; she felt loved.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Happy First Intentional Double-Posting! :) From now on, you'll get chapter updates for _Lissie Nye_ on Mondays _and_ Fridays! How does that sound? Do you still want teaser snippets? That's probably a silly question, but I'll ask it anyway.


	9. Chapter IX

**IX**

"I'll kill him! I'll kill the black-hearted Philistine!"

Ben's hands were clenched at his sides, his heart raced furiously, and it was with some difficulty that he spoke the words through gritted teeth. Lissie look up tearfully from her seat on the ground and covered his fist with her own shaky hand.

"Ben, please... You're frightening me."

At her touch, his gaze softened, and he knelt beside her to tuck the twisted foot back under her skirts. "But I cannot sit by and do nothing as each time 'tis a worse injury than the last!"

"It wasn't his fault that the horse spooked," she said weakly.

"You should not have been sent to break a wild horse," he insisted. "Any real man would have known such a thing." Ben cupped her porcelain face between his hands. "I do not wish to lose you."

"You will not. It... it does not hurt so bad... when I do not walk on it."

"It is so bruised and misshaped it would be a miracle if you were able to walk on it at all."

Lissie hung her head. She had _not _been able to walk on it, and instead hobbled, dragging her useless limb behind her to reach the river as quickly as she was able before Ben saw how sorry a state she was in. Of course it was all for nothing, as he noticed when she did not leap up to greet him. And once questioned, she could never lie to Ben.

"Lissie..." Ben said patiently. "When Mr. Merriman gave me my rifle, he said that a weapon should be used only with the thought of protection or it becomes a device for evil. I can think of no better way to protect you than ensuring Jiggy Nye can never hurt you again. He deserves to die for what he's done to you."

"You musn't speak that way!"

"But I _must_ do something!"

"If you kill Jiggy Nye, my... my father, you'll be imprisoned." Her eyes grew wide with terror, "I couldn't live if you were imprisoned!"

He frowned, wishing desperately that he was a gentleman of means who could tempt the greedy villain into letting Lissie go. "Couldn't you stay here? In the woods?"

"Alone? No, Ben. I would be so frightened. What would I eat?"

"There are plenty of berries. I would bring you more food, and Rose..."

"I couldn't run now if he came to find me," Lissie stopped him with a grim reminder. "I would rather go back and risk a lesser punishment than if he were to find me as a runaway. And you would be in trouble, too. Please don't risk it. I couldn't bear it if you were hurt for me. If you couldn't come and see me..." Lissie pressed her lips together, fighting back her emotions.

Ben sat down properly rather than remaining on his knees; a sign that he was there to listen whenever Lissie chose to share her heart.

She did so with a clear and steady breath that surprised as well as frightened him. "Sometimes I think of talking back on purpose so he'll thrash me until I die."

Ben choked on her name as he called to her from the dark place her mind was slipping towards. She looked up at him and it made him ache to see her eyes so full of a sadness he could not relieve. She gave him a faint smile. "But then I think how I need only endure a few more hours before I'm here again, with you, and then I can endure it. I tell myself, 'Ben will be at the river. He'll miss you if you don't go,' and no matter how much it hurts, or how badly I want to make it stop forever, I can live through all of it knowing you'll be here."

"Oh, Lissie!" Ben did not bother to conceal his distress. He cried on her shoulder while she clung to him for dear life, shaking now and then from her own sobs.

It was the most difficult parting they had yet been through. Ben would not allow her to even rise without help, and lifted her in his arms as one might carry a child. She was light enough to be a child still, and he marvelled how such a slight creature could live, and breathe, and depend on him so entirely. Suddenly, she seemed a great deal more heavy than before, though he would never in a thousand years protest such a weight.

Lissie stroked his cheek in a soothing rhythm, curious at the newly formed stubble that graced it. "Ben," she murmured as they approached the tannery, leaning her head against his chin, "I do love you ever so much."

He stopped in his tracks, turning to kiss the delicate fingers that rested near his lips. "I cannot let you go back to him."

"But you must," she said, and her returning sigh tickled his neck.

He took a step forward... and faltered again. "This is not right, Lissie. Please come with me to Mr. Merriman's. Once he knows you he won't turn you away, I'm certain."

"No, Ben. I won't cause trouble for the man who's been so kind to you. Let me down, now. I can walk from here."

Ben knew she spoke out of a terror of Jiggy Nye catching them, and not a true confidence in her ability. She steadied herself by his arms, and tried to smile. "I will be especially good so that he has no reason to strike me."

"You are always good," he said sadly. "There is no reason for his cruelty except the devil's hold on him."

She had no answer, but offered him a small kiss before limping away towards the miserable place she was forced to call home.

It was several hours before Ben was able to tear himself away and return to Merriman's shop.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Have I missed anyone's special snippets? I don't recall giving a teaser for this week, so I wish to know if I was a horrible person and forgot to give it out, or if I simply didn't have reviews to respond to! Oh! And remember, I can't send you a teaser snippet if you're not signed in as a FF user, or you have Private Messages turned off.

But even if I couldn't send you my thanks through a PM, I'd like you all to know I really do appreciate whenever you take the time to tell me how you're enjoying the story. Truly. Reviews make me happier than a Cole in a camp full of soldiers. British soldiers, that is.


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